Cultus ex Cineribus
About the Series:
This collection is a journey into the heart of a destructive cult, told through the fractured memories of its followers and the unrepentant soul of its creator. It explores the anatomy of trauma, the weight of unwashable guilt, and the cold shadows left when faith is burned to the ground.
Technical process :
The process began by crafting still compositions inside Unreal Engine 5, carefully building each scene’s mood and structure. These stills were then stylized using a custom Stable Diffusion model I trained on my own Midjourney artworks, allowing the visual language to remain deeply personal and consistent.
Once styled, the images were upscaled using Leonardo to retain clarity for animation. I brought them to life using Kling, with a few select moments animated through Luma Labs AI for better motion.
Sound design was an equally important part of the process. The music was composed by me using Suno AI and Udio AI, with the lyrics generated in collaboration with ChatGPT to capture the emotional tone of each piece. Finally, the entire animation was rendered in Deforum using ControlNets to integrate movement and atmosphere, completing the visual narrative.
Vulnera
To belong, she was told she must become a monster. To climb the ladder in her new family, she had to feed the fire with a living soul, a choice she made despite her own fear. Now, that fire never stops burning inside her. It’s a memory that follows her from the dark corners of her childhood to this final, quiet room. The leader’s promises turned to ash, leaving only the screaming ghost of her victim. Some stains cannot be washed away, only carved out with a knife—a final cut to silence the guilt for good.
Silentium
He tries to erase the past, to drown the memories of the day they shaved his head and called him brother. But the escape he seeks in the needle only pulls him back into the nightmare. He remembers their hands over his mouth, forcing his silence as his friends were broken by chains before his eyes. He is still that boy, trapped in a prison of memory. He reaches for a gun, a final, desperate plea for silence. Click. Click again. Nothing. Even escape has escaped him. All that's left is the floor, and the tears.
Exanimis
She washes her hands, but the water runs red with a memory that will not fade. In her mind, she is still that girl in the cult, holding a still-warm heart that was not hers to take. She remembers the leader's blessing, the feel of blood on her hands, and the cold shock of being baptized in a subterranean lake made of sacrifices. They pulled her out of that darkness back then, but the stain remained inside her. Today, in the quiet of her own small room, she finally finishes the ritual. This time, no one is there to pull her back up.
Devotio
Her life is a quiet routine of snow and silence, but her mind is loud with the ghost of a choice she can't undo. She remembers dancing with her daughter, reading her stories, and then the final, terrible memory of handing her child over to the cult. She gave away her own light, and has lived in the shadow of that guilt ever since. Now, standing on the edge of the platform, the rumble of the coming train sounds like a promise. A final chance to stop running from the little girl who screamed for her.
Inflammā
He was once a god to them, a leader who promised light and built a family from broken souls. And then, to save himself from the coming sirens, he became their devil. He watched his church burn, a monument of his own making, filled with the bodies of those who trusted him, while his most faithful fought and died outside. Years later, an old man now, he walks past a hanging noose—a choice meant for guilty men. But guilt is not a burden he carries. He turns his back on it and walks toward the ruins, a silent promise that some fires are always ready to be lit agai